Unsafe
by Whispered Winters
Summary: SamxReader: Sam is fresh from high school, starting his first year at Stanford. When you two hit it off the first time that you meet, you didn't realize a sweet boy like him would make you end up the way that you two had become. (excuse the not so great summary! rated m for future chapters)
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! It's Jesse. To be honest, I have never written a story like this so I apologize if I mess up and things sound weird. I have no beta either so if you see a mistake, please inform me! I've already written a few chapters but if wanted, I can update once a week, more if people really like it! This is just the first chapter so enjoy and leave a review; tell me what you like or don't like and such aha. I just started writing this one day and so far, it's really fun!

It takes place at the beginning of season 1 where Jesse doesn't exist shh. Not me Jesse, Sam's Jesse aha. Sam had just gotten accepted into Stanford whilst "you" have been a student for a year already. He's a freshie, you're a sophomore, w00t w00t lets get this story on a roll! P.S. "You" act a lot like I would aha. Cause that's the only perspective I've really got right now :P please enjoy :)

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><p>"Party, this weekend, honestly, (YN) just come!" Your friend pleaded, taking hold of your hands. He was a nice guy, knew how to bat those pretty gray eyes and had a nice head of brunette hair. His hand was tight on yours and his thumb was running circles on the soft skin there on the back of it. You gave a tight squeeze but took your hand back, shaking your head softly. He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip like a child though he was your senior.

"I really can't, Derek. I got this huge exam Monday. Which you do too, mister!" You give a small peal of laughter which mingles nicely inside the luxurious lounge room of Stanford. Students were buzzing around like bees in a hive, some taking advantage of the coffee machine and the (not supposed to be there) microwave on the counter. Many looked half haggard from sleep deprivation and far too much studying. Some students were cuddled up on the couches, others studying with a highlighter in their mouth and two more in their hands.

It was a nice air of studiousness that you actually quite loved. Everyone here wanted to be here, unlike in high school. Oh, yeah, high school. Gosh you were glad you got out of there. You only left about a year ago, but it still held some pretty shitty memories.

There's that half smile on Dereks lips again and you see him give up with trying to ask you out...for the third time that month. It always happens with boys. Sure they flock to you like birds around a bread crust but the moment they realize that you just weren't into dating, they trickled away. Didn't stop a new batch from coming in every few weeks though, even if their friends warned them of the cold hearted princess and your tendency to not ever leave the dorm.

"Alright, alright, but if you change your mind-"

"I know, Perkinsons place, eight sharp. Got it, Derek." He smiled fully, all teeth and charm and waved goodbye as he got up. His pace was leisurely as he walked away and you sigh. You didn't get it. He was smart, good looking, a decent man and yet nothing. Not a butterfly fluttering in your stomach or trickle of blood rising to your cheeks to make you blush so prettily as they all tell you. Inwardly, you groan and sigh, leaning your head on the chair or so you thought. The groan had already escaped your lips before you could stop it, and quite loudly too.

"You alright?" You look up to find another man looming over you, one arm holding a stack of thick books which you recognized as the fundamentals of law and the other holding a glass water bottle, sweating with condensation as it was gripped in his hands. He wore gym clothes, probably just came from that facility and you could see how fit he was. God, he was cute, too; that kind adorable baby brother cute that you knew would turn into a hunk of a man once he hit 21.

"Uh, yeah. Kind of." You say, sitting back up, laughing nervously. He chuckles and takes a seat where Derek was just a few moments ago. He didn't sit too close, far actually but you could still smell some sort of earthy cologne and you even lifted a few inches in your own seat as his weight distributed on the worn couch. You introduce yourself with a polite smile and wonder if he's going to be just like the past few guys since you've gotten to college.

"I'm Samuel Winchester." He says, holding his hand out. You shake it firmly, finding his fingers and knuckles calloused, littered with small little scars. He must of have been a country boy or something, you think.

"Samuel Winchester." You test his name out on your tongue and he smiles, skin crinkling around his, what? Green eyes? Blue eyes? No, green, most definitely. The prettiest dark olive green irises you've ever seen with hazel ringing the pupil and blue on the edges. Something out of a book or TV show, you swore, but nope he was right there, live and in the flesh. "And your name...?"

"Oh, sorry!" You laugh again, hiding your awkwardness. You introduce yourself as he settles his things down onto the coffee table in front of you both, giving you a shy smile.

"Sorry if this was weird." He says meekly, running a hand through his brown sandy hair. It looked so soft, you almost wanted to reach up and ruffle it but thought better. "It's just, I'm a late student. Just got accepted." You nod understandingly; thats why you haven't seen him around.

"No, it's no big deal." You smile graciously and decide to leave out that you get approached by random guys far too often then you would like. "Need a tour of the place?" You offer, cocking your head to the right. He must have been a bit lonely; attending a cold college like Stanford, you don't make friends the way you would at a public school.

"Oh, that would be great." He beams at you and you can't help but smile back. What a big sweetheart, in the literal sense too. How tall was he? 6"2, 6"3? Sam ruffles through his pocket and pulls out a pen and then jots down a few numbers on a piece of parchment from one of his notebooks. "Uh, this is my number. Sorry, the area code is a bit bizarre." Your fingers brush as he hands you the slip of paper and you flip it open briefly. The area code definitely wasn't from around here, and he had written his name in big capital swerving letters.

"So, where are you from, Samuel?" You ask.

"Sam, if that's alright." He suggests. With a deep breath he settles into the couch, denting the cushions even more than before. "All over, really. My family liked to travel and move around a lot."

"I've been here all my life." You say, a bit dejected. "Wanted to get away, even if for a bit, but I guess i'll be stuck here."

"It's not too bad, right? I mean, Stanfords always been my dream school." He looks around, an amazed look in his eyes like he couldn't believe that he was even there. It was so cute, he looked like an excited puppy just brought home.

"Not gonna lie, it's pretty great. You're studying law?" He nods, picking up one of his books and flips through it.

"What about you, (Y/N)?" Sam inquires. He turns his eyes on you, bright and interested and did you...just forget to breathe? For a bit? God, his eyes were beautiful.

"Neuroscience." You manage to inform him. "I want to cut peoples brains open." You joke, giving a laugh. Something flashes through his eyes though, something you didn't see in regular people. Was that fear, uncomfortableness? Instantly you felt guilty, as if you hurt him or something. You open your mouth to apologize when your phone starts to buzz inside your purse, blaring the sounds some techno tune you had chosen from the list of otherwise monochromatic sounds. You fish it out and find the name and face of your roommate on the screen of the iPhone.

"Amy?" You say, picking it up.

"Girl, I swear if you are not back in ten minutes in our room, I'm gonna go kill a bitch!" You raise your eyebrows and Sam follows in suit, a smirk playing on his lips. Did he hear that? Oh gosh.

"Sorry, my roommates, um, well, crazy." You laugh and could almost see Amys pretty face glaring at the phone. "I'll be right there, Amy."

"You better, sweetheart!" The phone clicks, informing you that she had hung up and you shake your head.

"She's insane, but I adore her." You say.

"Wish I could say the same about my roommate." Sam jokes, wincing. "I don't think he realizes that mayo in my toothpaste isn't as hilarious as he thought it was." Laughter spills from your lips; you always laugh at everything and anything. Sam seems to like it because he smiles at you sweetly.

"I'll call you later." You say, waving the paper in the air for emphasis as you stand. "And I will show you all the best hideout spots for when you want to skip class." This time he laughs, free and light hearted. He licks his lips after he does and you see his eyes flicker up and down your body. Usually you'd be so self conscious, sometimes a little afraid if the boy that was doing it was more wolfish, but with Sam you felt flattered.

"Look forward to it, (Y/N)." He says standing up too. Sam towers over you, almost a whole foot taller and you frown.

"Can I ever meet a guy that's not so much taller than me?" You rhetorically ask.

"You're petite. It's cute." His little compliment makes you smile, quite broadly actually but you reel it in. Keep cool, keep cool.

"Hitting on me, Winchester?" You tease, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Depends, is it working?" You laugh but nod because it most definitely is.

"I'll see you later, Sam." You tell him as you walk past. He smiles, biting his lip and nods.

"Yeah, hopefully." As you leave to appease your roommates desires, you feel a foolish grin find its way onto your lips. You haven't felt like this in a while, and to be honest, it was quite nice.

When you arrive at your dorm room, the door was slightly ajar. Warily you push it open and walk in to find Amy fidgeting with her computer on her bed. You say her name and she looks up, dark brown eyes wide and afraid. She says your name and hops off the mattress, big beautiful locks bouncing with her body moments, latching onto your arm as she drags you over. You barely had time to shut the door behind you with an audible slam.

"What is it, Amy?" You ask. She sits you down on the bed and plops her P.C onto your lap. With a perfectly manicured finger she points at the screen, firetruck red nail vivid against her tan skin.

"There's a facebook page called Stanford Sluts, (Y/N)!" Amy says. You brush a lock of your hair back as you gaze at the screen and suddenly, there it is, your face. A candid picture of you was bright and bold on the computer with a big capitalized caption underneath.

"(Y/N), the most secretive slut there is or a prude Mary Jane." You read out loud from the website. You laugh loudly and shake your head, shutting the laptop. "Oh, Amy, I don't even care."

"Are you sure, babycakes?" Amy sits down, extremely serious in front of you and takes your hands. "I can get my daddies and my brothers and my cousins to the city real quick to find who did this. Hell, I may be a country bumpkin but I know how to whoop white girl ass, (Y/N), I sure do!"

"You don't even know if the person who is running this is white." I point out.

"I just know us white folks can be kinda crazy sometimes, and you've never seen black girls as petty as this in our old high school." You laugh her words, knowing that she was just playing around. You've known Amy since childhood, her family running the farm that your hippie household got all its organic vegetables was just the way she was.

"I'm gonna be fine. Plus, you pulled me out of a conversation with a nice boy, tsk, tsk." Amelia snorts and rolls her eyes.

"Is it that Derek child? I'm telling you, i've seen him at the salon and he gets his brows waxed more than I do." With laughter you shake your head.

"No, his name is Samuel Winchester. Heard of him?" Her brows raise and a smile tugs on her lips. Gossip girl Amy knew anyone that was anyone, and if there was a new student she didn't know about? Oh, well she'll know more about him than he probably does himself soon enough.

"The new law boy? Mmm, girl, you always pick the smart ones don't you?"

"You know about him? Tell me, tell me, please, Amy, please!" You weave your fingers through hers and bat your eyes, knowing that your best friend couldn't resist. Never had in the past 18 years of your life of being friends.

"Well, he's definitely new. Got real high SAT scores. Family is MIA, no one really knows, but isn't that hot? And you've got mystery boy all over your tail." You snort and shake your head.

"Not really, he just wants a tour." You inform Amy, kicking off your shoes. You curl up on her bed, or your bed, you're not sure. You two shared everything from clothes to books.

"A tour? Honey please, he'd been on three school tours already." Amy smiled deviously and reaches out to pat your bottom. "He wants more than a tour from you."

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><p>whoaa? yeah, that's it aha. kinda weird, kinda new, working out kinks and stuff. but leave a comment and tell me if you enjoyed reading!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

helloooo! tis' I, jesse! how is everyone today? here is chapter 2 :) the chapters are gonna be quite sporadic in length, some short and some long. i'm really bad at making everything even aha, I apologize. this is some filler, some fluff to let you guys know the dynamic between the characters and such. the actual plot will come in due time. for now, please enjoy, leave a review, and give a few suggestions :) i'll write a few fillers too, im a sucker for fluff aha so drop some prompts in the review box and i might write it! special shout out ShriQuinn for the review, this is for you! :)

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><p>"Sam?" He looks up at you and his eyes widen slightly.<p>

"(Y/N)!" Sam says excitedly. He goes to get up but before he can move you're next to him, sitting down on the wooden bench that lined the multiple desks.

"You're in my english class, oh gosh, that's great!" You say. Sam shifts a few of his things to make room. His thigh touched yours, warm and comforting and he doesn't move from your body.

"Professor Matthews kinda freaks me out." Sam confides, shutting the literature book that was far too expensive to be logical.

"Oh yeah, he's got that weird Victorian vampy vibe thing going on." You shudder. Speaking of the devil, your English professor walks into the classroom with his dark shades and gel slicked back blond hair. Sam grimaces with you and with a sigh, the madman starts going off on a rant of how the writing of philosophers need to be reexamined and rewritten, perhaps by him.

"Maybe he is one." Sam suggests, pulling out a notebook.

"You gonna slay him?" You joke. He chuckles, smiling as if he knew something you didn't.

"Anything you want me to." He says. With a giggle, the class goes on. It wasn't a hard class so you didn't end up paying attention at all. English has always been one of your star subjects and continued to be, even in college. You could always read the material after class, and you were just a bit (a lot) distracted by the handsome man beside you.

Sam took notes religiously, scratching down every other word that came out of the professors mouth. It was almost like he had never been in class before; one of those kids that was desperate to learn because he never had the chance to before. You couldn't get over how cute he was for a huge bear that he seemed to resemble.

He catches you staring and instead of shying away, you smile at him. You never understood why girls played games when it came to boys. If you liked someone, show them. Constantly. Always. Lay on the affection because no one knows when things might end. It was how you grew up; love someone? Tell them. Just tell them. Show them. Kiss them, hug them, cling all over them and let them know that they matter. Sometimes, you might not have the chance to.

Suddenly, Sam tears out a piece of paper from his notebook and scratches a message on it. Before passing it to you, he hesitates for just a moment. You could almost laugh at the elementary gesture but can't help but smile at the little note he had given you.

_Why do you keep looking at me? Something on my face? _

You quickly write down a reply in your messy handwriting.

_I like looking at cute boys._

He reads its and smirks. Before he leans down to write a response, he connects eyes with you with genuine pleasure. Sam writes and softly slides it over to your side before leaning back, looking a bit unsure about himself.

_I like sitting next to pretty girls. ;)_

You burst out in a fit of giggles and try to stifle the sound by clamping a hand over your mouth. "A winky face?" You whisper in hushed tones. "Winchester, are you kidding me?" Sam shies away and scoots to his right, away from you. He seemed embarrassed, face reddening as he looked the opposite way. "Awhh, come on." You say, still quiet as to not disturb class, and playfully poke his dimple. Sam fakes anger, shooting half hearted glares at you. It's all so adorable and you can't help but laugh. Without thinking you reach over and grab his wrist to pull him back but only end up somehow being pulled over to him. Your shoulders bump and he's warm, broad. He feels safe and protective as he gazes down at you, smiling.

"You're so small." He murmurs. Your lips turn into a pout and you turn your head away.

"Am not. I'm average sized, you're just big." You mumble. Sam chuckles, his breath falling onto your shoulder. You give a _hmph_ and its your turn to scoot away. All it does is make the man laugh a little more and before you know it, one of his hands was on your waist, pulling you back to him. He was closer now, you could smell his aftershave and a hint of mint from whatever toothpaste he had used earlier this morning. You almost pull away, used to people always being far too touchy with you, thinking they could get away with copping a feel just because you were nice and would deal with their bullshit for longer than the average human being. But you don't, because you like the way it feels with Sam around you, by you, beside you.

"No, you're petite." He reiterates, this time into the shell of your ear. You shudder and gulp involuntarily. He squeezes your side a bit and you squeal at the ticklish spot "It's cute."

"I'm not gonna be very cute when I kick your ass, big guy." You hiss, giving him your very best sneer. His lips press together, trying not to smile or laugh at your pathetic attempt at intimidation. "Now take your notes, Sammy." When a derivative of his name slips from your mouth unintentionally, he smiles even if it is closed lipped. He breathed deeply and let it out, pulling you closer to his side as if he wanted to keep you there forever. Sam did, he really did. You were doing something to him and it was strange beyond strange.

He'd been fighting the supernatural all his life; throw witches and demons, djinns and vampires, anything with a tail and claws and Sam knew how to deal with it. But throw a pretty girl at him? He didn't know left from right. Flirting and dating had always been Deans area of expertise, not his, and with this girl he didn't know what to do. With you on his arm, everything he was doing on instinct and whim with no tact whatsoever and that was possibly what made him so scared.

Was flirting correctly? Was he touching you too much? Why were you letting him? Was the note a little much? You haven't pull away yet, in fact, you were returning his affections. You were flirting back too...right? Sam didn't know, but at that moment he didn't even care. He was finally there, at Stanford, in a literature class. No ghosts, no monsters, no Dad, no Dean waking him up from the bed of a cruddy motel to tell him they were going on the road again. He was there, with you; normal and laughing and stable. He was there.


	3. Chapter 3

i was supposed to update this yesterday? and i forgot? T^T so sorry guys! aha but here is the chapter! please enjoy :)

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><p>It was late, and knew you, oh god you knew that you should have had Amy come with you to the gym. But after all, it was late and she was a drama major, she needed her beauty rest. So stupidly, you went to the gym at eleven at night, just at the perfect time when there just had to be a group of men standing outside of the dorm gym. They were staring at you at this very moment, hooded with black clothing and shadows. You give them a curt nod and start to walk away, knowing your safe, safe, safe car and campus was just a five minutes walk away. You can do it, this is nothing, this probably happens to girls all the time.<p>

But it didn't make it any less scary. Life as a female was and is always alarming; there was always imminent threat and the very real possibility of getting your throat slit if you don't put out for man. Then, the also very real and totally has happened before possibility of being called a prude and a whore if you _don't _put out.

You were walking quick, legs bare in your shorts and tank top that wasn't doing you any fucking favors besides look very rape-able. God, you prayed for them to stop at a car or at a shop; hoped that you were just being a paranoid little girl. But they don't stop, and your heart is beating so hard you weren't sure if your chest just felt uncomfortable or you were in actual pain. The streetlights were bright and splaying dots onto the concrete sidewalk, flickering like a scene from a morbid movie scene. Your footsteps mingled with theirs, heavy and scuffling. Threatening.

With shaking hands you pretend to be calm and fish your phone from your bag. You could have dialed 911, but instead you call the first person on your recents list. Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. Tall, handsome Sam whom you've been talking to constantly since you've exchanged numbers. It rings, once, twice, three times as you take the very same number of breaths. And then a raspy, sleepy, "Hello?"

"Sam." Your voice squeaks and you clear your throat. On normal circumstances, you would have smiled. The thought of the man always made you smile, but right now, things were not normal. "Whats up?" He yawns and you hear the rustle of blankets from the other side.

"I was sleeping, but why? You alright?" You feel your eyes water but you keep your voice steady. You could see your car, brighter than the rest in the darkness. They were still walking behind you, voices now mingling with their steps.

"Yeah, I'm just walking back from the gym, late, at night, and stuff." You wonder if he got the hint, but when he speaks his voice had hardened.

"(Y/N), are you safe?" He says. "Where is your car? Are you alone? Are people following you?" You give a loud laugh and hysteria starts to set in.

"That's a lot of questions, Sam. I'm at the gym, you know, the one just five minutes from the school." You tell him, reaching a shaking hand into your bag to look for your keys.

"Hey, you!" Someone from behind yells just as you grasp them. Your head whips around and finds the trio starting to jog to you, eyes dark and menacing.

That's it, last straw.

You sprint, arms pumping at your sides and then they do too. Your adrenaline suddenly replaces your blood and you're by your car in ten seconds flat. They're yelling at you, the world is roaring in your ears and Sam is yelling your name from your phone but your hands are too busy trying to unlock your car with a button that was strung on your keys. You shove your phone into your pocket, focusing on the keys and in a moment there's that satisfying, unlocking _click _before rough hands grab your hair and yank you down backwards.

You shriek and kick, digging your nails into the hands at your head to draw blood and a yelp as another one of them grabs your legs. They underestimated you though and you kick like a horse about to be put down, catching the man in front of you in the chin. He swears profusely as you crawl up on all floors, searching desperately for something, anything to use as a weapon. Your fingers curl around your keys and you wield them like daggers between your fingers. As you scrabble to a standing position they surround you, crouched and ready to attack.

One had his hand over his mouth, blood dripping from between his fingers and you feel satisfaction seeping its way into your fright. The other was shaking off his hand and wielding a switch blade in the other as the last man cracked his neck and knuckles.

"Don't put up a fight, little girl." He says with his cheshire smile. The lights flicker but you could see their faces, gaunt and littered with week old stubble. They were normal looking guys, dark hair and dark eyes. But at night, everything was dark.

"Fuck you." You spit, chest heaving. They snicker.

"That's the plan." says the one with a knife. They advance and this is when it all really hits you.

Fuck. What the fuck. You were one girl; one measly girl with keys as knives and a heart about ready to explode inside your chest. But here you are in an unfair fight against three grown men, getting closer by the second and part of you knows that you're probably not going to get out of this alive or emotionally traumatized. Hell, you're _already _emotionally traumatized and okay, here he comes. Your hand rears back, ready to strike like a snake in waiting; a venomous fucking snake too with fangs and-

_BOOM! _

One of them falls, clutching their side, yelling a curse. There's the sound of a shotgun being cocked and following it there's a _boom!_ Holy fuck, another one drops to his knee, letting out a howl of pain. The man who had been so tough before widened his eyes so big you could see the whites all around them and suddenly, a new taller man is in front of you, hitting the offender on the nose with the butt of a shotgun.

"Sam?" You murmur. You savior turns to you and yeah, it is him as his chest heaves . His face is a blur in your vision, eyes frantically searching your body for some type of injury. In his hands there was a shotgun; gorgeous really, all metal and wood; laced with the unfamiliar smell of gunpowder, and you realized what he just did. "You killed him, holy shit Sam you killed him. Sam, you killed someone, he's dead, holy shit, he's dead and you-"

"Salt rock rounds, he's not dead but we need to go right now." He's in front of you in two great strides and grabs your hand, pulling you along. "Come on, (Y/N), right now!"

You don't resist though you should have. Salt rock rounds? In a shotgun? Was the boy you've been crushing on for the past few weeks or so again a fucking serial killer? But you let him take you along, feet dragging and tripping over the ground as you try and keep up with his long legs. For some reason things were all a bit numb right just got attacked by three guys and now a tall bear with a shotgun is leading you to god knows where and you're just...okay then.

You look ahead of yourself and see Sams hand clenched around your own, engulfing them. It actually kind of hurt; he was holding on so tight that his knuckles were whitening but you curl your fingers around him as best as you could. "Sam?" You ask.

"Not now, let's get somewhere safe." He says, voice darker than you've ever heard it. You nod though he can't see you. You look around, the parking lot was half empty and lit with fluorescent bulbs. Sam's saying something and you're being seating in a car with that brand new car smell and cheap seats. The car door shuts with a huge thump and you jump, but then all you could hear was Sams echoing voice and the sound of his car revving, driving down the roads. You couldn't hear those men anymore; those scary, scary, horrible men. What would have happened if you were left there? Alone? What would they have done to you? Cut you up and rape you? All at once or one by one? Would they use protection, would they have left you somewhere to die?

There's something wet on your face and you reach up. You're crying, crying a lot actually and it all comes back. You're sobbing in the car as it moves along the street, Sam soothing you with sweet lies and a hand brushing back your hair.

"It's going to be alright." Sam murmurs. "They're gone, fucking gone. No one can hurt you, babe. I will not let anyone hurt you. No one." You cry still. Always crying, you find out.

The car stops. Time was weird, short and long and completely nonsensical. Sam gets out of the car and gets you out too, hands warm and protective. You walk with Sam, unable to stop sobbing and you can't see anything as the world turns into a big blur of cooling California air and Sams hands. In seconds your nose is blocked up with snot and you're trying to breath through your mouth but sobbing uncontrollably doesn't really help. Sams saying your name, hands in your hair and rubbing up and down your arms. It's not like you didn't want to answer, it's just that you really, really couldn't and you let go of his hand to cover your face.

"Okay, okay, take your time. Can I pick you up? (Y/N), I'm gonna pick you up okay?" A comfortable hand is at the top of your back and Sam's arm lifts you up from underneath your knees. He lifts you quite easily and shifts you so you're stable in his arms. "I'm going to take you to my dorm, since, uh, I don't think I can go to yours. Okay? Okay?" He waits for you to nod your head before he starts to walk. All you can do is clutch at his shirt, wetting it with tears and boogers and the fear of almost dying. You felt like you were dying; like your heart was collapsing inside your chest.

"I know, it's scary, babe, I know." Sam says, tightening his grip on you. "But you're safe now, with me, and I am never ever going to let you go anywhere without me ever again if it's night. Even if its goddamn day, I swear. It won't happen anymore, I promise. I promise, okay? I promise, babe." You whimper, trying to say okay but it doesn't come out quite right so he goes on and on and on.

"When we get inside, I'm gonna set you down on my bed and you can curl up in the blankets and cry for a bit if you need to. You can get mad and angry and hit the pillows, even me, I don't care. But just know it's all going to be fine. I'll make tea and snacks and you can stay over tonight if you want or I'll walk you back to your dorm whenever you want. When you can walk again, that is. (Y/N)? (Y/N), listen to my voice. I'm real. I'm here. They're all gone and I am here."

A door creaks open and you realize that you had arrived. Sam walks in, flicks on the light with his elbow and kicks the door closed. He nonchalantly throws his keys floors and they clatter, causing you to flinch. He shushes you sweetly, lips pressing a kiss to your temple as he sits you down on his mattress, prying your hands away from your face. "It's alright, (Y/N), I just need to check you." He says crouching down to the ground in front of your legs.. "I need to make sure that you're not hurt."

"J-Just my k-knees." You stutter, sucking in snot from your nose and swallowing it. Gross, utterly gross. You probably looked gross right now and so you try to fix it as best as you could. You wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks and underneath your nose, try to flatten down your hair as if it would help any. You finally look at Sam, with swollen and tired eyes. He looked so worried, it made your heart ache. He leans forward and places his forehead on yours, shutting his eyes just to feel you there. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out before leaning back. He strokes your face and tucks some hair behind your ear.

"I'm gonna go get the first aid kit, alright? I'll be right-"

"No." You interrupt, your hand darting out to grab his shirt between your fingers. You shake your head, pressing your free palm to your eye as you feel the tears coming on again. "Please don't leave me. Please, please, please don't leave me, Sam, please-" Your head falls onto his chest, crying again though you didn't want to.

"Babe, it's right here. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." He smiles at you, reaching underneath his bed to pull out a white case the size of a thick book. He pops it open and pulls out a few gauzes and a bottle of disinfectant. He pours it onto a cotton pad and puts a hand on your thigh. Sam looks up and then back at your bleeding knees. "This might sting a bit, (Y/N)."

You take in a deep breath and nod, gripping his sheets between your hands. You steel yourself for the pain and it comes once he pats it on your wounds. "Hell." You murmur, biting your lip. It wasn't too bad, but you never really got hurt before. It was a new sort of pain and you took in a few deep breaths.

"I know, I know." He chuckles and shakes his head. "I've been through worse. This is nothing." Silently he cleans you up, placing bandages over your knees after her puts on some ointment. When he was done he puts away his white box of healing goodies and sighs, still kneeling at your feet.

"Shouldn't I be the one sighing?" You say. You could feel the hysteria trickling away, being replaced with a strange sort of peace and calamity.

"You should be more careful." Sam says snappishly. "I was afraid you were going to get hurt. Really hurt."

"You were worried." You murmur. His adams apple bobs as he swallows.

"Yeah. Like hell." He agrees. He gives a bark of laughter and shakes his head. "I didn't want to get there and..and find you dead. Or kidnapped or raped or just...gone. Fuck, I don't know what I would have done; you're all I have here in California and oh god-"

"I'm here now." You recycle his words and cup his face. "I'm here now, Sam." It seems to soothe him and he leans his face into your palm. Sam presses a kiss to your palm sweetly and you feel any fear left over melt away with him just being there. You lean down and kiss his forehead, smirking at the change of positions. Now that you felt better, here you were, taking the part of caretaker again.

"Thought I was the one who was supposed to be comforting you." Sam says, reading your mind.

"It's okay. We can take turns." You giggle and he looks up as though amazed.

"You finally laughed." Sam says. "Its so good to hear you happy."

"You make me happy."

It slips out of your mouth and immediately, you think you fucked up. Guys don't take shit like that easy; they flip the fuck out and leave and never call you back again. But Sam doesn't stand up and throw you out. He doesn't start convulsing on the ground or contorting like you had just throw holy water on him and he was a demon. He looks up at you like maybe you're an angel; as if no one has every said that to him ever.

Sam kisses you, leaning up and pressing your lips together. No fire works went off; it wasn't like a movie where you felt a spark between the two of you and the world stopped but it was real. His lips were soft and warm and firm, just brushing your own. He shifts his face so your lips slot together and kisses you again. You never expected this. You've never been kissed so soft, like you were glass and so sweet. He kisses you with small touches of his lips as if he's afraid to break you, afraid to kiss you too hard. You grip at his shirt, pulling him close and he leans up, hands resting bed to the sides of your legs. He kisses you and kisses you till you can't breathe, arms wrapping and your waist and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Your hands knot into his hair, tugging at the roots. After a minute you're mumbling his name into his lips. Sam jumps back, eyes widening and he lifts his hands away.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," He says quickly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't really mean to kiss you so much, it's just I really like kissing you." Sam groans and shakes his head, falling onto his ass and putting his head in his hands. "I fucked up, shit, I shouldn't have done that and I really like you too. I'm sorry. I am so sorry, (Y/N), damn after all that just happened too-"

"Sam." You say a little loudly. You grip his face and he looks up with puppy eyes and you could have smushed him from cuteness. "It's okay. I just kinda needed to breathe, you know? Cause humans kinda have to breath." The look of relief that appears on his face is heavenly and the little smile makes you smile back. You reach down to his face and take hold of his lapel, pulling him to you again. His face falls to the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss there.

"I think we should go to bed." Sam mumbles, breath tickling your skin. You could hear the tiredness in his voice and you glance at the clock on his desk. 2:12 A.M. "If you want to stay that is."

"I don't want to go anywhere but here." You tell him.

"I don't think I was going to let you go even if you said no, (Y/N)." Sam tells you, kissing your collarbone. You give a happy hum, embracing him.

"Where's your roommate by the way?" You ask.

"He doesn't come home weekend nights. So I have this place all to myself." You giggle as he gives you one big squeeze and lifts you up to scoot you farther into the bed. Before he climbs in he shuts off the light and kicks off his shoes. He yanks yours off too, running shoes from your trip to the gym. You didn't want to think about it so you shut your eyes and wait for his weight to make its presence beside you.

"Sam?" You say, turning your body to your side to look at him. It was dark but the moon and stars gave enough light. You reach over to touch his face, make sure he was there. He takes hold of your hand and kisses it. So sweet, god your teeth could rot but somehow, in the best way possible.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't say thank you yet." You shut your eyes, memories of just a few hours ago flashing through your head. You could have cried again, but you held it in. "So thank you, for saving my life." And there it is, the tears and the crying and the ugly screwed up face. Jesus, you were a big fat baby.

"Saving people, shooting things, it's the family business." Sam tells you. He reaches over and strokes your face, wiping away the tears. "Come on, come here." He pulls you close, placing your head on his chest and pulling your leg over his with his hand hooked underneath your knee.

"No, really though." You start to stay, voice warbling. "You saved me and I don't care if this is some hero complex with this but I really like you, even before you shot those guys with salt. With salt, Sam! Salt, you shot them with salt, like I should care more because hell, that's really damn weird, but to be honest I don't cause i'm so grateful that you were there cause I could have died or something but you're like, this freaking knight in sweatpants and a corny ass Stanford shirt that only freshies wear and-"

"Shh, shh, sleep." Sam say, cutting you off with a little peck on your lips. He kisses your head and then your nose and then presses another kiss, a real one, to your lips. "We can talk about it all tomorrow but just sleep, okay?"

"Okay." You nod and take in a deep breath. A few deep breaths and readjust yourself on his body. Underneath your ear you could feel his heart beating steady and strong.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." Sam says about half asleep himself. Even if he was, he was strong around you, a big protective bear with really beautiful eyes and a damn shotgun. And soft kisses. Those too.

* * *

><p>wHOA too fast? slow? just right? aha drop a review! the next chapter will forward the plot and stuff, look forward to it!<p> 


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